


That which goes bump

by prowlish (valkyrie_fe)



Series: tf_speedwriting's Spam Weekend [2]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Community: tf_speedwriting, Gen, Humor, Mystery Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyrie_fe/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Fulcrum wanted was a good night's rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That which goes bump

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt(s): #2: Strange noises at 2 am
> 
> First time writing in IDW :O

If, after being formatted to K-Class, Fulcrum thought he’d find a place on board a ship called the  _Weak Anthropic Principle_  sharing a room with a bot named  _Misfire_ , he would’ve attributed it to sheer terror-inspired insanity. Yet, here he was -- and the first thing he noted was Misfire was as loud in recharge as he was awake. Didn’t he ever oil his joints? Fulcrum hadn’t had a blip of rest with all the occasional screeches.  
  
Misfire became noticeably quiet after Fulcrum launched an empty energon cube at his head. Satisfied, Fulcrum settled down to finally recharge, when -- “Hey, Fulcrum?” Of course. Now he was  _awake_.  
  
Fulcrum sighed and glared at the dark ceiling. “ _What?_ ”  
  
“Do you hear that?”  
  
“All I hear is you making more noise instead of letting me -- ”  
  
“No, no, shh!” The squeak of joints and his own knowledge of Misfire’s mannerisms indicated that he waved a hand to hush Fulcrum. He could physically feel the patience drain from his frame, until -- he heard it.   
  
 _Thump, thump, thump._  
  
“Uh... what  _is_  that?” Fulcrum asked.  
  
Pause.  _Thump, thump, thump._  
  
“I don’t know!” Misfire hissed.  
  
“Well, it’s your ship, isn’t it? You’ve never heard that before?”   
  
 _Thump, thump, thump_  easily drowned out their hushed tones; it was getting closer.  
  
“It’s not  _my_  ship! And no, I haven’t heard it before! Can’t you tell by how very freaked out I am that I have  _never heard that before_?”  
  
Fulcrum huffed, sitting up and reaching for his gun.  _ **Thump, thump, thump.**_  
  
Long pause.   
  
“Wasn’t that right outside?” Fulcrum whispered.  
  
“How should I know?”  
  
“Well -- ” And now it changed. A little tap, tap, tap on the door. Fulcrum felt just suicidal enough to stand up and answer it.   
  
“Are you insane?!” Misfire squeaked, following this admonishment with moans of how they’d bested the D.J.D. just to have their sparks eaten by a night-horror.   
  
“Misfire, shut up.” Fulcrum turned back to the door, gun charged, and then opened it. Fierce optics in an even fiercer face glared down at him and Fulcrum almost fired by reflex. Then he realized who he was looking at. “...Grimlock?”   
  
He heard Misfire turn to face them. “ _Grimlock_  is at our door?”  
  
“Well, you decided to keep him,” Fulcrum muttered.   
  
“Me, Grimlock...” Their attention snapped back to the open doorway instantly. “Me, Grimlock...”  
  
Misfire tittered nervously. “Yes, we know -- uh, how can we help you?”  
  
“Me, Grimlock, cannot sleep.”  
  
“What?” Misfire asked, at the same instant Fulcrum said, “Why not?”  
  
The shoulders of an alien alt-form shrugged. “Me, Grimlock, cannot sleep,” he repeated. “You puny bot help.”  
  
“Uh...” Fulcrum looked over his shoulder at Misfire. “I hope you know some good stories, Misfire.”  
  
Fulcrum had never before seen such a terrified looking smile.

 


End file.
